


“Eternity” and “Limbo” are Matters of Perspective

by wallscrolls



Category: Kagerou Project
Genre: KageprOTP month, Kissing, Other, but oh right the fic, i love it, kuroha and snake of clearing eyes are now the same tag, there I think that's it, these two are one of my obscure otps, they are so awful together, this makes me so happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 22:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15567255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallscrolls/pseuds/wallscrolls
Summary: If time is never moving forward, can you really say it's "forever"? When there's only the two of you, how much is it worth sacrificing to make the most of what you have? Is being trapped together truly better or worse than being trapped alone, after all?





	“Eternity” and “Limbo” are Matters of Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> I had this brilliant idea for actually making a fic for each week of KageprOTP month highlighting all my obscure/under-loved OTPs, except then the first two weeks were too fluffy and writer's block continued to be a thing, so this might be my only contribution. I have another story mostly ready to go, but I'm not sure if I'll use it for week 4 or my August 15th story. Maybe both. We'll see. 
> 
> This is for week 3: Daze.

For some time, they both had been pretending that they hadn’t noticed each other. Seconds passed into hours passed into days without any indication as time waited, suspended, in this frozen world. It was so easy to just keep on as they had been with nothing changing around them.

Neither really knew what it was that shifted. Possibly something in that other world; after all, it was the only reason that anything changed in here. But one moment, they realized that their eyes were meeting, and now neither of them could pretend they didn’t know the other was there.

Azami spoke first.

“Why do you still look like that? That body isn’t yours anymore.”

The snake gave no response for a while. It wasn’t sure how she did that, asking the exact same question that had been on its own mind ever since it awoke again and found itself still in the form of the blackened empty shell it had taken for its own. It had been so sure of everything up to this point, but suddenly it had been outplayed and taken advantage of only to wind up back here where the story had begun. From here on out, it all was a mystery, and it didn’t like not having answers.

But then it grinned, tilting its head a little and settling back on the sparse structure it had made a seat of, because if there was one thing it wasn’t going to do, it was give Azami any sense of an advantage over itself. “It isn’t? If that’s so, why do I still have it?”

Though it thought of it as a “shell”, the truth was that the body called “Konoha” hadn’t been nearly as empty as it pretended. _That_ body wasn’t here. It had gone back to the other world with the rest of them, leaving behind some echo of a husk that didn’t even have the snake that created it. There was no logical reason why there would still be a body with this appearance in either world. Maybe its own self-actualization had created it in some attempt at denial. Maybe Konoha had created it as a cage to trap it where it couldn’t slip out again.

Azami glared and crossed her arms. “It doesn’t suit you. You’re a monster that doesn’t even deserve to look the part of a human.”

“Ah, but you’re a monster too, aren’t you, my dear _former_ master?” It stressed the word and delighted in how it made her cringe. “Maybe I’m just following your example. Taking the appearance of those pitiful creatures I’ve become fascinated by…”

“Don’t compare your reasons to mine!” She uncrossed her arms, hands balled into fists by her sides now. It smirked. She’d snapped first. “You’re just, for your own selfishness…!”

“And _you_ , for your own selfishness.” It shifted and stood up, then jumped down to the surface that served as some sort of ground between them. It could feel the normal sluggishness of a human body with no supernatural power to drive its movements faster. When it possessed other bodies, that sluggishness was normal, but in this one, it felt strange. But it didn’t let any of that through in its expression, holding the smirk as it moved closer and kept Azami’s gaze. There was a pained expression on her face slipping through her glare, and it could tell that she wanted to look away but was forcing herself not to. She, too, understood that this was a battle of wills. “But what’s the harm? It got us both what we wanted, right? You got to experience that fragile thing known as a ‘family’, and I—”

“You could never get what you wanted.” She cut the snake off with a certainty that, even though she was no longer its master, made it shut up on long-forgotten instinct. Maybe bringing up her family had been a mistake. There was a sudden conviction in her eyes that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “You want something as vague as ‘existing forever’. Such a thing doesn’t exist for you. It’s not something you can hold on to, because the moment you lose it, it never existed in the first place. It’s not…” her expression softened into something that made it feel sick. “It’s not something you can look back on and know you once held it, even if it’s gone now.”

It hated those words. It hated them because it knew she was right. It burst out laughing, suddenly enough that Azami jumped, because what else was it supposed to do when she had torn its very core apart so thoroughly? “Saying things like ‘you once held it’ is just a pitiful attempt to cover your own despair! Ah, that’s right, isn’t it? You speak as if you’ve moved on, but you can’t help but trying to see your own family in everything, can you? This body!”

It knew it had struck a nerve. Azami’s eyes widened and she pressed together her lips, as if it were about to reveal a secret she didn’t want told. Maybe she didn’t know it had realized. It wasn’t in this loop, but some of the many before it where she had let slip the wrong thing at the wrong time.

It pressed a hand to its chest and continued. “When it was first formed, you saw _him_ in it, didn’t you? The light hair and eyes, and, ah, what was it? ‘A kind and gentle demeanor that still gives you the feeling that he can do anything’?”

She took a step back, and it moved closer by two. It was self-aware enough to know that it was angry now, lashing out at her with a grin and cruel words because it wanted to hurt her back, but it had this advantage and it was going to keep pressing it.

“You had to watch him disappear into a world without you again. And then I…” it leaned in, sneering, “ _I_ took him. I bet that hurt, didn’t it?” Azami finally dropped her gaze. Satisfied, it straightened up again and crossed its arms, letting out a pleased exhale. “You’ve just been stuck here the whole time, watching everything pass without you. I wonder if you were jealous that I left? Maybe you thought some stupid thing like surely I, of all your snakes, would have stayed with you. How did it feel as we slipped out one by one? It was all under _your_ orders, after all. You just had no idea what you’d wished for until it was…”

It trailed off as Azami reached up and gripped its shirt. “You never know when to shut the _hell_ up.”

Before it could say any more, she pulled it down and pressed their lips together.

It wanted to gloat. She had given into her impulses. She was the one who had initiated with it, but it couldn’t hold that over her because it was already grabbing her shoulders, already kissing back. It was a stupid, _human_ thing, and yet…

Azami startled and pulled back suddenly. “What are you doing?” she muttered, breathless and flustered.

“What are _you_ doing?” the snake retorted, scowling but not unbothered. She didn’t seem to have an answer for it, and after letting her fumble for words for a couple seconds, it drew her back in to continue the kiss. She made a surprised noise, but didn’t pull back again.

It was like some ridiculous spectacle. Neither of them were human, and yet here they were, indulging in an absurd display of humanity. At what point had either of them become so _lonely_ that they were drawn together like this? And surely, it had to be loneliness. A former master with no more subjects. A subject cut off from a master. They were no longer tied together as they once had been, but they each filled a gap the other one was longing for.

They had no one else left to be that person for them. It was just the two of them, together in this world without time. They, who had been together from the very beginning, were now once again together for whatever extended long beyond the end.

There was no sense in counting how long it took before the two of them finally separated again. Azami frowned slightly, and then chuckled. “Tsukihiko was much better at kissing than you are.”


End file.
